Snowfall
by Connie Welsh
Summary: Sam looked over to his brother, watched the flakes catch in his eyelashes and hair as Dean looked up, slowly smiling, that pure delight that Sam remembered and cherished so well spreading across his features. Day 3 of the 25 Days of Fic Tumblr Challenge


**A/N:** 25 Days of Fic Tumblr Challenge, Day 3

Sam had experienced every kind of Christmas climate, from the warm, mild weather of Florida to the bitter cold of the Colorado mountains, but by far his favorite was the snowy, beautiful weather of Wyoming.

It wasn't that he was particularly fond of snow, per se, but Dean was. It never failed to put a delighted smile on his brother's face, waking up to find a thick layer of snow on the ground and the world coated in ice, even if it held them up for days at a time.

When they were kids, it made sense; snow meant there was a chance school was canceled, meant snowball fights and building igloos and snowmen and even making some extra cash shoveling people's walkways, if they wanted to. Sam always expect Dean to stop loving snow eventually; snow when you grew up meant rock salt coating the undercarriage of the car, meant traffic delays and getting snowed into crappy, boring motel rooms and made digging up graves an absolute _bitch_.

But Dean was always surprising him, and his continuous love for snow never ceased to amaze.

Today was no different, except that it was. It was because Dean was only three months out of hell, was still this beautiful, unearthly creature with remade skin that Sam was still figuring out, still learning about, still trying to coax into the open, metaphorically speaking.

They hadn't woken up to snow, but the clouds overhead had been threatening it all day, along with the local weather forecasters. They decided to risk it anyway, driving down to the local library to dig up some info for the case they were on. It had served to be a long, boring process with far fewer results than Sam had been hoping for, and they emerged from the library's windowless basement with stiff necks and growling stomachs to go along with their sour disappointment.

Then they stepped outside. Outside, where snow was falling steadily from the sky, coating everything in fine, white powder.

Sam looked over to his brother, watched the flakes catch in his eyelashes and hair as Dean looked up, slowly smiling, that pure delight that Sam remembered and cherished so well spreading across his features.

Sam's heart clenched in his chest, so relieved to see something other than pain, and guilt, and the heavy burden of Dean's sin's on his face, rejoiced that this one simple thing could still give his brother joy.

"Funny weather we're having, ain't it?" Dean joked, his Cowardly Lion impression terrible, but making Sam love him all the same, "God, I love Wyoming. Beautiful."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, eyes only on Dean, "Beautiful."

Dean finally turned his eyes from the sky to look at him, and Sam adored the blush that spread across his brother's face; a blush he knew Dean would blame on the cold weather stubbornly, if Sam was ever so inclined to tease him about it.

Sam took a step closer and Dean glanced around embarrassedly, "We're in public, Sam."

"Don't care," Sam replied in a low voice, sliding one arm around Dean's waist, holding his breath for the moment he knew Dean was deciding whether to pull away or not, was relieved when he chose to lean into Sam instead.

Sam didn't hesitate to angle his head in for a kiss, his other hand coming up to cup Dean's face reverently, fingertips brushing away a few snowflakes clinging to Dean's skin.

Dean shivered, from the cold or the kiss Sam wasn't positive, but either way he wrapped his arm a little tighter, pulled his brother flush against him and felt Dean grip his shoulder with one hand, the fingers of his other hand hooking through the belt loop on Sam's hip.

"Beautiful," Sam murmured against his mouth, grinned when Dean bit his lip and mumbled for him to shut up, "So beautiful."

Sam kissed the protests from Dean's mouth, tiny snowflakes melting between their lips as the snow swirled around them. Their lips parted with a small sound, their noses pressed together lightly as their breath misted and mingled between them.

"You going to stand here waxing poetic, or can we go get lunch?" Dean finally said, and Sam gave a light laugh and a little grin at the lazy, kissed out warmth in Dean's voice.

"Anything you want, Dean."


End file.
